A/N: This story is based on lore stating that GDI began as a deniable UN counterterrorism unit called 'Special Operations Group Echo, Black Ops Nine', and that the foundations of the First Tiberium War were laid during the events of Red Alert. It will focus more on the small-scale missions of 'hero' units than on commanders orchestrating large-scale battles, drawing from the genres of espionage thrillers and adventure capers.

This story serves as an AU prequel to 'Tiberium Dawn', tying together the Generals and Red Alert universes with Tiberium continuity. But its real purpose is writing a long, fiery love letter to the C&C games the author grew up with.

A disclaimer: while the author has done research to create a sense of verisimilitude in this story's details, this is ultimately an homage to a video game series featuring mind-controlled giant squid and glowing green space rocks. The author asks that this standard be borne in mind regarding the accuracy of this fic's depiction of military protocol, geographical features, cultural specifics, and alternate history. In general, this story takes the perspective that C&C is to war and history what the Fast and the Furious movies are to automotive engineering.


Prologue: Creeping Upon

Allied Supreme Commander General Gunter von Esling issued a statement today deploring the United States' refusal to increase their occupation forces within the former Soviet Union, calling it an abandonment of the USA's sworn commitments under the Treaty of Athens. A press release from the White House justified the decision saying that America has done its part for Europe, citing the deaths of 300 000 soldiers over three years of combat and having already contributed 200 000 troops to the postwar occupation mission. Recent polls have shown broad support from the American public for bringing their troops home.

With no further American reinforcements coming, the Allied Powers are expected to rely more heavily on peacekeepers from the United Nation's newly-formed 'Global Defense Agency,' established by the Treaty of Athens to help preserve world peace. But with the many challenges involved in occupying the vast Soviet territory, and humanitarian crises still raging across Europe, there is no telling how long these open-ended peacekeeping missions could last. Anonymous sources in Allied High Command are telling us they are skeptical enough soldiers and resources can be found among war-weary nations who lack the strength of the United States.

Less than a year since the Soviet surrender to the Allied Powers, it seems many are eager to put the war behind them and return to normal. As to whether peace will hold across a war-ravaged world, it seems that only time will tell.

-Allied Information Network radio, reporting from Moscow

December 18th, 1953 - Moscow, Russia, former USSR - Allied Occupation Zone - 1200 hours

The rubble of Moscow was barely visible beneath the piles of heavy winter snow building up on the shattered Soviet Capital. General Winter hadn't gotten the memo about the Soviet surrender and was still fighting the Allies with all he had, punishing the occupiers with snow and ice and mud, mimicking the Partisan bands still fighting throughout the disintegrating Union.

British, French, and German soldiers stood shivering in shelters built in shell craters, watching humiliated and resentful Russians picking their way through the ruins of their homes and workplaces. The thunder of heavy aircraft overhead announced another wave of American soldiers on their way home, envied by those left behind. The occupiers cursed Stalin's ghost for ever starting a war, and the occupied cursed Einstein and the Chronosphere for ending it this way.

Moscow's fall would be studied for decades to come by enthusiasts of military and scientific affairs alike. The Allies had accomplished what Napoleon never could by outflanking General Winter with technology. When Soviet power had stretched across Europe and the Allies had seemed finished, it had been a great shock when Allied units had simply started appearing within the city, including the legendary Tanya Adams. Taking full advantage of the surprise, the invaders had seized a Russian supply dump for their own use and built up an attack base to take the Kremlin, backed by ongoing Chronoshifted reinforcements.

When the dust settled from days of brutal street-by-street fighting, Stalin was dead, the bewildered remnant of the Politburo and STAVKA had surrendered, and Moscow's core was gutted. Much of the damage had been done by Russian flamethrowers after Stalin ordered literal scorched-earth tactics in the heart of his capital, but this did little to dampen the anger of many Muscovites at their Allied occupiers. Whatever their feelings on the dead butcher who had ruled the Soviet Union through terror, no one liked to be conquered, least of all Russians.

The destruction stretched from the city's tallest point to its lowest, from the broken tower of the Foreign Affairs Ministry, through the pulverized apartment buildings and roads, and down into Moscow's famous metro, whose tunnels were still being cleared of collapsed wreckage. But not everything was destroyed. Something always survived, especially in Russia.

More than 70 metres down, past shattered pavement and broken pipes and the rusting skeleton of a fallen Tesla Coil, melting snow water dripped into a hole in the floor within a gaping concrete cavern. The cavern was hundreds of feet long, for it had once been intended as a Metro Station before the Soviet Special Projects division turned it into a buried State secret.

Despite the hole and other battle damage, the cavern's occupant still had all the comforts and necessities he could desire. Secure in his hidden underground headquarters, he had access to electricity, heat, water, food, books, radio, television, and a massive full-colour map of the world dominating one wall, painting the globe in blue and red to represent Allied and Soviet influence. Dotted across the world were hints of another power, rising unseen in the ruins of the war, represented by the sting of a scorpion's tail.

The man still wore the plain gray suit he had favoured while acting as Stalin's advisor. The overhead lights gleamed off his pale bald head as he rested his goateed chin on a curled fist, standing with confident poise and regarding the great map with dark, calculating eyes. Despite his isolated surroundings, despite the devastation surrounding him, despite his ties to a defeated regime, he had the expression of someone for whom everything was going exactly as planned.

A whining sound built in the room, electric and urgent, swelling out of thin air. This was not part of the plan, and the man's expression showed it as he abandoned his contemplation and grabbed a pistol from a nearby desk drawer. A blue-white brightness built in front of the great map, hovering and growing. The man leveled his gun at it and backed away to position himself near the exit hidden in the nearest wall, ready to flee but compelled to bear witness to what was happening.

The noise built, and the light brightened, casting flickering impossible shadows about the room. A final crackling discharge echoed off the concrete as it resolved the light into a glowing white silhouette, which cooled and dimmed into the form of a man, standing with his arms outstretched as though on a cross.

The visitor was the twin of the man in the cavern. More weathered, perhaps, with a fuller beard and a scar or two, a little more heavy and haggard in his stance, and wearing a long, shining black coat made of material that would not be invented for at least another century. But the same man nonetheless, with the same keen intelligence in his eyes, the same easy charisma on his features.

The two men slowly approached each other, studying each other's faces, their stances, their mannerisms, like curious cats stalking forward for a wary sniff when meeting for the first time. They came face-to-face, silently regarding one another. The visitor spoke first.

"He who controls the past, commands the future."

A voice for speeches, a voice for proclamations, the voice of a prophet. The earlier man's eyes widened momentarily in recognition. Then he set aside the pistol and replied in the same voice.

"And he who commands the future… conquers the past. I assume you only resorted to this measure out of great desperation, Brother. Things… must not have played out as intended."

The visitor suppressed a grimace. "You assume correctly."

He lifted a gloved hand, holding out a thick black envelope.

"This contains everything you will need to make things right. I know you'll succeed, Brother. I've seen it."

The man took the envelope, ran his hand over its strangely plastic surface, from a world beyond paper. Then he nodded, and stepped forward. "Destiny awaits transformation. You know what has to happen now."

The visitor stepped forward as well. "I'm ready. Embrace me, Brother."

The two men came together, wrapped their arms around each other, gripping tight and fierce as though expressing love or grappling to the death. They both glowed, bright blue-white, and again the whining noise built in the cavern, crescendoing in a blinding flash of light.

The light faded. Only the man remained. He gasped, shaken as though by a revelation, and panted for a moment before regaining the cool confidence that would help make him a legend to millions. He opened the envelope and took out the red dossier within.

Photographs. Maps. Dates, names, locations. Blueprints and statistics, stock data and scientific theorems. He touched one photo in particular, examining the image of a different bald goateed man, this one with a Hebrew symbol tattooed on his forehead, gazing intently at a bending spoon while the late, unlamented Comrade Stalin watched over his shoulder.

And then, smiling with many gleaming teeth, Kane looked up from the dossier and beheld the map of the world before him with fresh and blazing eyes.

Something had begun.


A/N: Just what C&C needed - another timeline! This bit of meddling by Future Kane is my blank cheque to combine elements of Red Alert and Generals in the Tiberian timeline for the rest of the story.

This chapter's account of Moscow's fall draws more from Red Alert 2's final mission than Red Alert canon. In the Allied campaign, the Allies counterattack into Russia and take Moscow by a land offensive rather than using a Chronosphere shortcut, which happens in RA2. This treatment of the Second Great War is to allow elements of both the Soviet (pushing the Allies to the shores of England) and Allied (ultimately winning the war) campaigns to be treated as canon in this fic, and to emphasize the decisive power of the Chronosphere to the Allies.

The 'Global Defense Agency' is hinted at in one of the briefing videos of Red Alert's campaign - as the Soviets pummel Athens, an Allied news item describes a UN proposal to establish a new agency, which I'm treating as GDI's forerunner in this story. According to canon, the Agency would officially become the Global Defence *Initiative* in October 1995.

The USA's hurry to get away from the unenviable task of occupying Soviet territory is supposed to help justify how powerful GDI would become by the First Tiberium War as the UN expanded to take up the slack - although as we've seen, history is about to take a different course.

I kept the details of what transpires with Kane(s) deliberately ambiguous - I believe the character works best with an air of mystery around him. More about his dabbling in time travel may be revealed in further chapters.